Eyes
by FerPotter
Summary: Once a year a man appears at the edge of the forest and calls her with his eyes. RLOFC. Oneshot.


**Eyes**

**Summary**: Once a year a man appears at the edge of the forest and calls her with his gaze. One-shot.

**D****isclaimer**: Not mine! It's all J. K. Rowling's.

**Beta reader**: Indigofeathers – thank you so very much!

**A/N**: This story was written for my friend Miateixeira. I hope you enjoy it. :0)

* * *

The first time she saw him, she was picking up wood for the stove. She realized she was being watched and looked to the edge of the forest. She expected to find a gazelle or some other animal, but what she saw instead were the intense eyes of a man staring at her from between the trees. She was scared and soon hurried inside the cabin. From time to time she would look through the window and she would see him there, at the same place, looking back at her.

She went to sleep afraid.

The following day she glimpsed a shadow between the trees that flanked the rear of the house. She didn't need to see more clearly to know it was _him_. She finished taking the clothes from the line and didn't go outside the house again. She was still afraid, although his eyes filled her thoughts since the day before.

She went to sleep with the sounds of the agitated forest.

She woke up the next day and didn't see the man, or even his shadow, anymore.

---

One year later, he came back. She knew it was the same man; his eyes left no doubt. A shiver ran through her, and she knew it was more than fear that she felt, but she didn't want to identify her feelings.

She dined with her mother and then went to the window. As she thought, he was still there, at the edge of the forest, looking at her. His eyes shone in the intense light of the almost-full moon and were an invitation; one she felt her body wanted to accept.

The night deepened, but he remained there, standing in the dew. Her mother sent her to bed, and she followed her orders with reluctance.

She slept with the memories of the man's gaze.

---

She'd marked the date on her calendar and knew this was the night. A year had passed since he'd last been in the forest, with his eyes fixed upon her. She would come up with excuses to leave the cabin, to be able to keep an attentive eye on the forest.

And she was right. There they were – the eyes of the man who visited her every year. When she saw him, she was next to the well beside the house. She stopped what she was doing to abandon herself to his gaze: mysterious, captivating. Her long hair fluttered, obscuring part of her face, carried by the wind that swept over her back and his face. It seemed as if he could smell her on the air stirring around them, and those eyes gained in strength and concentration.

That had been the most intoxicating scene she'd ever witnessed, and the memory of the desire in his eyes accompanied her inside the cabin when her mother called her to help with dinner.

She went to sleep with the desire of him for her impregnated in her skin.

---

Another year waiting, another year of dreams and desires. She'd decided that this would be the night to face the forest to approach the man who rocked her body and heart even in his absence.

Even before dinner, she could see him by the edge of the forest. His eyes carried the weight of another year in their shadows, but they had not lost any of their earlier vivacity and intensity; they were exactly how she remembered them.

She waited for the house to go quiet and put on a coat. She opened the door and closed it behind her with caution and anticipation. It was madness, but if she didn't go to him tonight, she would lose her mind in the year to follow.

The chill night breeze pierced the tick fabric of her coat and invaded her being, cooling her stomach. She was nervous, but his eyes called to her, and she wouldn't go back on her decision. She was a few steps from him, could hear his harsh breathing, the insistent snuffling as he seemed to taste the air. For the first time, she saw that the eyes that shone from afar were amber; saw that the shadowed face was as young as hers, and that the hair that framed it was light as an autumn morning.

The fact that he didn't move increased her courage, and she took another step towards him.

"Who are you?" she asked, and her voice seemed to flood the silent night.

"I'm yours," he answered; his eyes shining even more in the reflection of the moon that revealed itself between clouds.

That made her tremble. His voice was hoarse and vibrant. Her eyes closed with the feeling.

"What do you want here?" she managed to ask even, with her throat dry and her lips numb.

"You."

Her breath came out shakily with the realization of what that meant. She should have gone back to the cabin, should have run, fled from those eyes devouring her.

But she didn't.

She stood and waited for him to take a step towards her, waited for the touch of his rough hand to her cold face, waited for him to bury his face against her neck and breathe in, deep, leaving her weak at the knees.

Now, even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't leave. His lips closed on the sensitive skin of her neck, and she gasped. In a swift movement, he had her in his arms and bore her into the forest. She was afraid, but anticipation and desire overlaid everything. She wanted him, and he would have her.

It was almost morning when she returned to the cabin, loved and protected by the man who was, from now on, her owner; holder of her most intimate desires and her heart.

She went to sleep with the memories of him inside her and a smile on her lips.

---

She'd barely slept the night before in the expectation of this day. She knew he would come, knew she would have him in her arms again. Her lips spread in a wide grin when she saw him by the edge of the forest. A year without seeing him, a year without feeling him, a year without being loved.

The last candle had gone out in the cabin and, not much later, she went out to give herself to her man. Just the look of explicit desire for her was enough to put her at his mercy. She touched his face, outlining his lips with a finger, licking hers in preparation for the fevered kiss that followed. His caresses were firm, possessive, and it was all she wanted.

Like he did the year before, he took her in his arms and into the forest. The time was short for so much longing, but she would make the most out of the night they would spend together. The hours had gone by in love and surrender, in desire and possession.

She went to sleep, back in her bed, with the certainty that she would never love another man.

---

The next year she didn't wait for him alone, she had with her their three-month-old honey-eyed baby. She remembered how difficult it had been to explain to her mother about the father of her son, and of how she'd been called insane. This year all would be clarified, she would bring him inside the cabin and would prove to her mother that the man from the forest existed, that he loved her and would love their son as well.

It was already night and he hadn't appeared at the edge of the forest. Where could he be? He had never failed to come in all these years. She had an eye on the window and another on the bassinet. He would come, he always did.

The day was threatening to break when her mother led her reluctantly to the bedroom, where the baby already slept in his cradle.

She went to sleep with her heart broken and her head troubled.

---

Her baby was a year old already when she set herself to wait again. During the year that had passed, she had imagined a thousand reasons he hadn't come and had convinced herself that this year it would be different. He loved her, he had come for her, and he wouldn't abandon her now.

She slept by the window with her eyes sore and wet.

---

She was hanging out the washing when she felt his eyes on her. At first she didn't want to believe it. She was like that, vulnerable, every year since he hadn't come back. She ignored the sensation; she didn't turn to the forest and continued with her task.

When hope took her reason, she couldn't help herself anymore; she closed her eyes and turned to the forest. Opening them, she first saw worn-out shoes, then brought her eyes up to the owner's face and found the evidence, in the amber of his eyes, that he had come back. She almost dropped the basket of clothes.

He walked towards her with the determination she knew from years past. He had changed; he was older, like her. Six years older, although it looked more in his case. But the eyes were the same, though their color had lost something of the shine she remembered from years before. Maybe it was the setting sun, maybe her flawed memory.

"Mum, I've filled the bucket," her boy shouted.

This made the man stop near where the clothesline started, interrupting his advance from the forest to her.

The boy tangled himself in her skirt, shy. "Who's the man, Mum?" he asked quietly.

She looked from the boy to the man. "He's your father, son."

The look that had enchanted her all these years died away, and honey eyes like her son's, though heavier and more obscure, took the place of the amber.

For a moment, this stranger looked to the boy and then to her. There was pain in these new eyes when he asked, begged, "Write a note. Put your name in it. Write the address of this place, _please_."

When she didn't do as he asked, he added yet more urgently, "Hurry, please. I can't stay much longer."

She left for the cabin and looked for paper and pen. When she came back to the yard, alone this time, she found him with eyes closed against the wind and felt her heart beat faster, her stomach go cold. It really was him.

"Please, put the note into my pocket."

She drew closer and did exactly what he asked. She felt him gasp at her touch, and when he opened his eyes to face her, they were amber again. He kissed her with enthusiasm, taking her breath away, and she didn't want anything else but to lose herself in his mouth.

"Go back inside the cabin and don't come out for anything," he whispered against her lips. "Not even if you see me," he added before leaving her and running into the forest.

She felt her heart go with him, but did what he had asked of her.

She didn't go to sleep. She kept watching him through the cabin's window while she fiddled with her son's hair.

---

"Good afternoon."

She jumped, startled upon hearing that voice. She turned around with her hand still on her heart.

"I'm sorry if I startled you. Maria, isn't it?"

She nodded, still wide eyed with what she was seeing. He had come back, and it hadn't even been a week since the incident in the yard, just before the full moon.

"My name is Remus Lupin," he said.

The laugher of the boy playing on the other side of the house resonated loudly, and she saw his eyes lose focus, attentive to the sound.

"His name is Rafael," she said, referring to the owner of the laugher that filled the air.

"It's a beautiful name."

She could see him fighting the smile that wanted to invade his tired face, and she smiled at him, freeing him to smile back. The moment lasted a few seconds, but his eyes soon faded back to the earlier sadness.

"How long have you known me?"

She thought the question odd, but answered anyway. "For more than ten years. Rafael is five," she added.

He closed his eyes as if trying to hide the feelings so evident on his face. She reached out a hand to caress him, soothe him. A tear spilled down her cheek at the pain that emanated from him.

"I thought you had abandoned me. You didn't come back once Rafael was born. I started to believe I wouldn't see you again, that you were really an invention of my imagination. But I had your son to prove the contrary. I had the offspring of our love with me."

He held her hard.

"If I knew," he whispered in her hair.

"Why didn't you come back? Why did you vanish for all these years?"

"Maria," he said reaching a hand to wipe the tears from her face, "what do you know about me?"

"I know that you always come here before the most full moon of the year, but I don't know why," she said with difficulty.

"It's because I'm a werewolf," he explained with his eyes on hers, the tender look she had always seen on that face. "And I don't remember our encounters," he continued, frowning. "The wolf overrules me on that day, Maria. I'm so sorry."

"I believe you," she assured him. "Your eyes are different."

Now everything made sense. As crazy as this story seemed, she knew it was true. He could only be a creature of the forest.

"I hope I have never…" He closed his eyes. "Have I ever hurt you?"

"No! Never!" she answered indignantly.

He suddenly released her from his arms. She followed his gaze and saw Rafael watching them from the threshold. She smiled and called him over, "Come, son. Come meet your father."

The boy hesitated, then ran to his mother, hiding his face against her skirt.

The man in front of her had eyes even sadder now that they were filled with tears that begged to fall. He crouched to be level with his son.

"Hi, Rafael. You're a very beautiful boy, did you know that?"

The boy fixed big eyes on his father.

"Why don't you give him a hug, Rafael?" she suggested, encouraging him forward with a gentle hand.

The boy took two short steps, and Remus opened his arms to sweep him up. She saw the man of her dreams smile over his son's head, and this was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.

They spent the afternoon in the cabin, talking, learning about each other. She told him about their son's five years, about their life on the edge of the forest, about her mother and the woman's death. He talked a lot with Rafael, who started to feel more comfortable around him, especially after he had learned that his father was a wizard and could do magic. He told her about his life, about werewolves, about magic. She came to know the weird things that happened after Rafael's birth were the result of his inherent magic. She learned about the different world inhabited by wizards, which was where he lived.

The afternoon had been pleasant and the happiest she had had in years. The time flew, and when they finally realized it, Rafael was already asleep on the couch and night was falling over the trees. He helped her take the boy to his bed, and, when the bedroom's door was closed and they found themselves alone in the hallway, he kissed her.

It was different from when they were in the forest, but it was a good different. He was calmer, more reverent. Soon she was lost in his new enchantments, and when she came back to her senses, they were entwined in bed like they did on the forest's lawn. She had finally come back to her owner.

She slept in the arms of her lover, knowing she would wake up and he would still be there.

* * *

**A/N:** Three cheers for happy endings:0) 


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